


Bloody Palms & Red-Rimmed Eyes

by summertime227



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 05:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summertime227/pseuds/summertime227
Summary: Betty & Jughead talk about Toledo. And sometimes, actions speak louder.





	Bloody Palms & Red-Rimmed Eyes

Betty looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror. She still had her make-up on from the dance, but the sensitive skin under her eyes was slightly blackened with mascara and the lip gloss had smudged onto the bow of her lips.

She looked down at her phone again – _no new messages_ – and sighed.

Suddenly, a knock on her window caused her to jump slightly in her chair. She whipped around and there he was. Jughead was looking at her with a sad smile from behind the glass. His unruly hair was sticking out from under his beanie and his eyes were rimmed in red. She was hit by a sense of déjà vu from the day they went to visit Polly at Sisters of Quiet Mercy. God, how much they had been through in the short time since then. She walked over to the window, her eyes downcast and lifted it. She shivered against the cold night air.

“Hi,” she said and flinched internally at how her voice cracked. She met his gaze for just a second then thought better of it and quickly averted her eyes. She backed up to give him some space to climb through the window and into her room.

Now that he was there, Jughead couldn’t think of what to say. He took her in and lost his breath for a second.

She’d changed out of her homecoming dress and into pajamas, grey cotton shorts and a green flannel- _his_ flannel. It was buttoned haphazardly, unevenly and hung loosely down to her mid thigh. It did a weird flip-floppy thing to his heart seeing her in his clothes. Her hair however was still pinned back. She turned away from him and started pulling the pins out, her blonde hair feathering against her shoulders. She put the pins down on her vanity, but her fingers lingered on the table. When several seconds passed and she still hadn't turned around, Jughead frowned.

“Betty, look at me,” he pleaded.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

After a beat, Betty sighed. “Cause I’ll ask you to stay…” she whined, barely above a whisper.

“Betts-“

“And I can’t, Jug. I won’t ask you to stay just for me. I mean, your family together? And happy? That’s all you’ve ever wanted!”

She was trying to sound light-hearted, but her eyes were on her feet and she could feel her fists tightening.

“It’s just-” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“What…?”

“When you climbed through my window that day, you changed everything. I’d been so blind…”

Jughead couldn’t see her tears but he could hear her sniffles as a laugh died on her lips.

“And you- you make my hands shakier and steadier at the same time… and it’s like I want to be a better person, but I know I don't _have_ to be… Does that make sense? And I showed you…”

Betty’s fingertips twitched against her palms instinctively.

“God, my mom told me not to trust you with my secrets, but you just-”

She closed her eyes and smiled, thinking back to how he had accepted her bad habit and kissed her hands like they were precious things.

“But I know everyone else looks at me and still sees the _perfect_ girl next door.”

Her tongue wrapped venomously around the word ‘perfect’ and her nails dug deeper into her palm, finally drawing blood, as the reality of what she was losing hit her head on.

Jughead stepped closer so he was standing right behind her. He wrapped his hands around her closed fists and placed a chaste kiss against her shoulder. He smoothed her hands open and linked his fingers with hers before they could coil up again.

Betty visibly relaxed, closing her eyes and leaning the back of her head against his collarbone.

“Those people don’t _know_ you," Jughead said quietly against her temple. "You’re not perfect. You are stubborn and complicated and flawed.” He paused before continuing. “And beautiful and kind and smart and _strong_.”

At this point, he moved his hands to her upper arms and turned her around to look at him.

“You don’t _need_ me, Betts. You never did,” he told her.

Betty knew he was right. She was strong, stronger than she knew. She could do this on her own if she _had_ to.

Jughead had his hand on her shoulder, his fingers resting on her neck. He fidgeted with the collar of his flannel shirt, a faraway look in his eyes.

“You don’t need me, Betts…” he mumbled again, halfheartedly.

She cupped his face in her hands, bringing his full attention back to her, and looked into his eyes.

“But I _want_ you,” she whispered.

That’s all Jughead had ever hoped for. To be wanted. He just never thought in a million years Betty Cooper would be the one to say it and make him believe it. But as she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with hope and something darker, old tears ghosting tracks down her cheeks and pooling above her lips, he knew he was done for. He wasn't going to Toledo.

“Say it again.”

And she did.

“I want you, Jug.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Jughead slid his hands down to her waist and kissed her. He moved his lips softly against hers just like their first kiss. But unlike that time, he didn’t pull away after a few seconds. Jughead deepened the kiss, skating his tongue along the seam of her lips. She gasped softly and her lips parted for him. Betty slid her fingers into his hair, accidentally pushing his beanie off his head. It fell to the floor by their feet, forgotten. She tugged lightly on his hair, eliciting a groan from Jughead which she felt all the way down to her toes. He bit down lightly on her bottom lip in retaliation and she sighed, leaning into him further so that he was practically holding her up. Eventually, they both pulled back to take a breath and Betty rested her forehead against Jughead’s.

“Don’t leave me,” she said with a tremor in her voice, rubbing his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs and smudging the blood left behind there by her palms.

“I won’t,” he whispered against her lips, eyes closed and fingers digging into her waist through his flannel.


End file.
